Deck the Halls with Behavioural Folly
by chiroho
Summary: TV Show Episode Title Challenge - December - Will & Grace: All About Christmas Eve - 5th story in the "Being" series with Sienna27 - Several different events spanning the late afternoon and early evening of Christmas Eve


**Prompt Set #13  
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Prompt: Will & Grace - All About Christmas Eve

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**Author's Note**: Happy Christmas/Christmas Eve for those still west of US Mountain Time. This story is the fifth in the "Being" series that I'm _thoroughly _enjoying writing with Sienna27 - I write "Being Aaron Hotchner", while she writes "Being Emily Prentiss". This story is my companion piece to the story **Secrets of the Fortress of Solitude** which Sienna posted a few hours ago. You should definitely read that story first in order for this one to make sense. Okay, are you back now?

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_**Being Aaron Hotchner and Being Emily Prentiss – Story 5**_

**Deck the Halls with Behavioural Folly**

I looked at my watch as I hurried down the corridors back to the BAU.

4:51

That bitch! I'd been just about to walk out the door with Emily a little after three for some much anticipated Christmas Eve activities, when she'd called me into an 'urgent' meeting. There'd certainly been nothing 'urgent' about it so far as I could tell. And what was it about meetings with her that sucked the life out of a person? I mean, it was almost worse than an interview with an unsub! In fact in many ways it _was_ worse because at least you knew that the unsub was going to be going away to prison for a very long time. With Strauss, the only person receiving punishment was the one she was in the meeting with!

And today's meeting had just felt off from start to finish. I'd been steadfastly trying to focus on the fact that I had dinner and extra-curricular activities with Emily to look forward to, so I'd only been giving her about sixty percent of my attention. But I could have sworn that at some point during the meeting at least one of the buttons on her blouse had come loose. After that I'd just kept my head down and thought of Emily. There was no way in this wide world that I'd even want to consider the fact that the button hadn't come loose accidentally. That was just . . . ewwww in so many ways.

Oh crap! Got to think of something else. Anything else. Emily in a suit. Emily in a red sweater. Emily in Victoria's Secret hot pants. Emily without Victoria's Secret hot pants. Emily wearing just a couple of strategically placed bows. Shit! That's too far the other way. Talk about overcompensating! Something else, I need to think of something else!

Morgan. Think of Morgan. Morgan kicking down a door. Morgan tackling an unsub. Morgan stretching his toned . . . Whiskey Tango Foxtrot??? Where did that come from?? Oh Good Lord, do NOT think about Morgan.

FBI regulations pertaining to the discharge of firearms in an uncontrolled situation, section I, paragraph 1, point a . . . oh that's better.

Finally, I'm back at the BAU! Now, to find Emily and blow this joint.

You wouldn't have thought that it's easy to slam a glass door open, but I manage to do so on a regular basis, and today was no exception. Usually it doesn't bother anyone, but given that the bullpen was so quiet, it made Joe Lehrer jump like a startled rabbit. Joe Lehrer, who was hanging around Emily's desk. Fortunately Emily was nowhere to be seen. What was that weasel doing here? And the little creep looked guilty, despite the fact that his nose was still taped from that elevator accident he'd had last week.

"Can I help you, Leerer?" I said as I marched across the room. Where was Emily? I'm glad that she's not here, but I can see she hasn't gone as her jacket is still on the back of her chair.

"Um, that's Lehrer, sir." Was he actually cringing? What sort of recruiting policy does Counter Terrorism have these days? I make a mental note to talk with Ted Walsh about the quality of the agents his unit is hiring these days.

"I know." Sheesh! Like I didn't know his actual name. Hello? IQ is at least fifty points higher than yours, loser! "Is there a reason you're hanging around Agent Prentiss' desk like a bad smell?" I couple that remark with interrogatory glare #7, which I find always works well on weak willed unsubs.

"Um . . . I was . . . sort of . . . " Oh for crying out loud!

"Just spit it out, Leerer! It can't be that hard to say." I up the glare to #5, which has been known to make serial rapists cower.

"I . . . I . . . I was leaving her a . . . Christmas present."

"You were, WHAT?" Now he's getting pissed off glare #2. "Look, Leerer. Agent Prentiss came to me on our last case about the possibility of raising a sexual harassment suit against you. Because I didn't want to cause any trouble for Ted," it's always good to do a bit of name dropping, if I do say so myself, "because he's a poker buddy of mine, I asked her not to file the papers and let me handle it. It seems that more handling is required than I'd imagined. Now if you don't get your ass out of here in the next ten seconds, I'll make sure that you're working reindeer patrol out of Kodiak, Alaska for the rest of your damn career with the Bureau. And don't show your face in here again!" Yes, I know I'm talking out my ass, but I did NOT want that creep hanging around Emily!

The sight of Lehrer running out of the unit like his pants were on fire is more than sufficient to make up for the meeting with Strauss. There's nothing for the ego quite like scaring the crap out of a grown man. Well, of course, there are other good things for the ego as well, like being able to concentrate long enough on the FBI psychological evaluation manual to make an incredibly attractive woman have three successive orgasms during a single sex act, but I digress. Making a grown man run with merely a look provides a level of satisfaction specific to the Y chromosome.

Now, to find Emily. Where could she be?

Hmm, I don't remember shutting the door to my office before I left. Maybe she's waiting for me in there? As I walk towards the stairs a thought suddenly strikes me – I hope to God that she hasn't decided to change. The way she'd been dressed earlier I knew that I'd be able to control myself until I got home, but if she'd put on that red sweater again, all bets were off!

///////

As I enter my office, I'm greeted with an incredibly cute picture. Emily was asleep on my couch, and was using my coat as a blanket. While the woman was incredibly enchanting, and had character that made younger attractive women pale by comparison, seeing her lying there just made me want to hug her. Yes, I know that's not a terribly masculine sort of thing to do, but Emily just provoked that sort of reaction in me. I hope I'm not getting sappy or anything.

Not wanting to disturb her until I'm ready to go, I quietly put the files I'm carrying down on my desk. Turning to face her again I smile, and she mumbles in her sleep. How adorable! I don't have enough experience to know whether or not Emily talking in her sleep is normal, because the only time I've 'slept' with her there wasn't much actual sleeping involved, if you know what I mean.

Stepping closer, I squat down to see if I can hear what she's saying.

Hmm, it sounds like she's muttering some sort of prayer. I hope it's not a nightmare of some kind. I don't think we've progressed far enough in a relationship for me to be able to comfort her – or know how she'd react to me attempting to do so. The prayer sounds familiar though. Oh yes. I remember. She was muttering that in my ear somewhere shortly after the second . . .

"Oh God, Aaron, oh God!"

Whoa! Apparently I was remembering that prayer correctly, because that's pretty much exactly what she'd said next as number three . . .

"Oh God, Aaron! Oh God!"

Heh! Not only does she remember that evening, she's dreaming about it. Talk about getting an ego boost. Sleep with a girl once, and she dreams about it just a few days later! I wonder whether she's had this same dream before, or if this is the first time?

"Oh GOD, Aaron! OH GOD!"

Crap! Major transfer of blood from one extremity to another. I think that little Aaron is looking for some sort of repeat performance! I need to wake Emily up or I'm not going to be able to walk out of the FBI!

"Emily? Wake up, Emily." My voice apparently interacts with her dream, as she lets out a low moan. SO not helping! I reach out and nudge her shoulder. "Emily? Emily, wake up."

Her eyes open just inches from mine, and I smile to see her staring at me. "Get kicked out of the shelter?"

She smiles sleepily at me. Thank goodness Mr. Happy has been successfully repressed by the sight of this beautiful woman just gazing at me. She reaches out and places her hand upon my cheek. "You're back." She's just so delightfully sleep-muddled.

"I am." Finally! Damn stupid witch. Damn stupid Leerer. I focus on Emily again. She could charm the pants off just about anyone without even trying. I move my hand from her shoulder and brush back her gorgeous hair. I've always liked long hair, one thing that Haley never really attempted. Hers was too thin. Emily's is so thick and luscious. "Are you ready to go?" I ask. "Or," I can't help but smirk, "did you want to finish that dream?"

Can we go so I can finish that dream with you, Emily? Please?

She looks at me blankly for a second, obviously trying to work out what I'm talking about, and then her eyes quite literally bug out of her head, and I can see a lovely pink flush travel up her delicate neck onto her cheeks. She really is just adorable when she's embarrassed. Not really sure why she's so embarrassed though. It was a damn good dream!

"What did I say?"

Oh, this could be fun! Not that I want to rile up the woman I'm looking forward very much to spending a lot of tonight not sleeping in bed with, but a little mischief at Emily's expense? I'm sure it will come back to haunt me, but might as well use it while I have the opportunity!

"Well, suffice to say that it's lucky that was me you were dreaming about, or I might have had to reassess our plans for the evening." I smirk. I mean, she's been dreaming some awfully good dreams about sex with me. What's not to smirk about?

Hmm, I know that Emily has a pale complexion, but she's taken that pale flush and gone a deeper shade of red. We're not in sweater territory yet, but it's quite a bit brighter than I've ever seen Emily before. The woman just doesn't blush, for the most part. I'm not sure whether it's the fact that she's an ambassador's daughter, or just because she has such wonderful control, but it's a really unique and special skill when an unsub is telling you things that would make most people's hair stand on end.

"How do you know I was dreaming about you?"

Oh this was getting too good! I wonder how much further I can take this? "Well, for one thing I heard that same sequence of prayers you panted in my ear last week," I grin. I can't help myself. That was SUCH a good memory! "Plus, there was the repeated chanting of 'oh God, Aaron, oh God." You know, the words which caused the sudden blood rush to my crotch! I tip my head sideways, thankful again that little Aaron is nicely relaxed for the moment, and I'm having such a good time needling Emily. "Really, that was my first clue."

Emily buries her head in her hands. Okay, maybe I've gone a little too far here. I don't really want to hurt her feelings. I was just trying to get a bit of a rise out of her. Damn it!

"Please kill me." Okay, so I may well have gone too far here. "Please take out your gun and kill me."

Yeah, and like that's not going to cause a problem with my service record!

I gently grasp her hands and pull them away from her face. She's pretty much beet red at this point, the poor thing. Maybe some humour here? "Now, do you know what a mess that would make on my nice leather sofa? Not to mention, your present is non-refundable and most likely sitting on your front steps as we speak." Okay, not helping so much, because all she's doing now is pouting. Maybe if I kiss her? I lean down and gently brush her lips with mine. Oh, I can taste her strawberry lip gloss. There are so many things I like about this woman. Maybe try a little more humour? I lean in closer and whisper in her ear. "But most importantly, we have big plans for tonight, and you're kind of a key player there." Come on, Em! I want to take you home and go one up on those dreams!

She's still totally flushed with colour. Guess the humour didn't work. She rolls over so that she's no longer looking at me. "Find another girl." Crap! But I don't want another girl, Emily. I want you! How the hell can I pull her out of this funk? Haley was always so different in these situations. Then again, I don't ever remember Haley ever having a sex dream about me – certainly nothing she admitted to anyway. Maybe one last shot at humour? It is Emily, and I know she does like my sense of humour – when I actually let it out of the box.

"Okay. Well, do you know where I can find another girl who can arch her back until her head touches her . . ." Oh boy, was that a great part of what will forever be known as Red Sweater Night. Emily spins over and shoots me a glare. I'd class it an intimidation #21, which is like water off a ducks back to me. I chuckle as I try and imagine Emily getting into a staring contest with me.

I pull my coat off her, stand up, and reach out my hand. "Come on, you can sulk in the car."

She keeps glaring at me. Does she seriously think this is supposed to be intimidating? I mean, she's not really mad at me, which _would_ be intimidating and probably a bit scary. She's just embarrassed. I raise my left eyebrow, and she blinks. Told you!

I grasp her hand and gently pull her up so that she's standing right in front of me. She won't meet my eyes though, and is still a very pretty shade of pink – though that's definitely lessened due to the glare she's been trying to send my way. Okay, I understand she's embarrassed, but it's not like she had anything to clean up after a dream like that. Hmm, she's still staring at a button my shirt. Come on, Em. It was just a dream. It's not like anyone is ever going to find out – unless you tell them anyway. Damn, she's still obviously bothered by this. Maybe if I tell her something equally embarrassing it might help?

I pull her against my chest, her head a little lower than normal for some reason, which means I need to lean down a little further to whisper in her ear. "Last Thursday morning, you got me so worked up in that red sweater that I couldn't get up from behind my desk for ten minutes." Way to go, Mr. Happy. Still, ten minutes is pretty darn good, though I managed much longer later that evening . . . oh right, making Emily feel better. "That's why I was late for the briefing." Yup, could you imagine me walking into the briefing with a boner? I'd NEVER EVER have lived that down.

Emily leans back, and I can see her trying to suppress a laugh. The pink has gone. "You got a woody just from LOOKING at the red sweater?!"

Of course I did, Emily! In fact, I suspected that at least Copperfield may have had one as well before I chased him away. You're lucky I did that, or else it could have been incredibly embarrassing for everyone involved! I feel my own face heat a little as she continues to laugh. "Unfortunately, yes. So you see, this office hides a multitude of dirty little secrets." Including quite a lot of exploration of the Vicky's Secret site the other night. Lucky I cleaned my browser history using that tool Garcia wrote for me.

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about."

She stops laughing at me, finally. I thought she'd have realised it was a good thing that I could keep it up for that long without any additional stimulation, not something to make fun of me about. She smiles though, and it takes away my momentary feeling of inadequacy. "Thanks for telling me that."

"Yeah, yeah," I grumble, still a little put out, "but if you ever tell anyone else I'll . . ." Oh shit! What will I do? Tell someone else? 'Oh hey Dave, Emily was having this SEX dream on the couch in my office.' Yeah, like that'll work. He'll immediately figure out it was about me, and then I'll have to admit to something that I'm not prepared to tell him because we don't want to admit this to anyone yet, and he'll needle me about it for years, and I'll basically never hear the end of it! And if I threaten her, how's that going to look? She's my new . . . girlfriend? I can't exactly threaten her with dire retribution. I might not get any tonight! And that would be BAD! Crap. How do I get out of this one?

Fortunately, the pretty girl standing in front of me comes to my rescue before I totally insert my foot orally. "How about you threaten to send me to Juneau? It's cold up there and you know I hate the cold."

Phew! A way out. I nod decisively. "Right, Juneau. I'll send you to Juneau if you ever tell anyone that story." Oh crap! No I won't. If I'm sending Leerer to Kodiak, that's way to freaking close to Juneau. I'll have to send her to Vermont, or Maine, or somewhere in northern New England if she ever tells anyone. I cannot possibly let her anywhere near Leerer! Then I see that she's smiling at me, and I can't help but smile back, dimple and all.

I slip on my coat, grab her hand, and pull her towards the door. I'm not sure exactly what I feel about this woman yet, but this is something I want to be in for the long term.

We reach the top of the stairs, and I realise why she suddenly seems shorter. "Um, Emily?"

She looks up at me. "Yes, Aaron?" Oh I could get so used to that! It's been a few years since anyone said that with that particular tone.

I look down at her feet. "Where are your boots?"

She flushes a little. "I took them off when I put my feet on your couch. I didn't want to get it dirty."

I roll my eyes and grin at her. "Do you think maybe you should put them on before we leave?"

///////

Surprised as I was that we were driving to her place together, I'd assumed that Emily had driven in but it turned out that she'd taken a cab specifically so that we could travel in the same vehicle – which was terribly sweet when I thought about it, I very much enjoyed the experience. It even took the edge off driving through the rush hour traffic in DC, something we didn't typically experience because of the weird hours working at the BAU usually ensured.

I had NPR playing in the background, mostly because I wanted to hear the forecast for Christmas. Not that I expected much in the way of terrible weather, certainly compared to when I'd been at college in Massachusetts, but it always paid to be careful.

I was enjoying listening to Emily talking about something Morgan had done at work today when there was a story about the Yankees outbidding everyone else for a new pitcher. For heaven's sake, are they going to buy their way to the pennant every freaking year?

"Fucking Yankees fucking SUCK!" suddenly comes flying out of my mouth.

"Excuse me?" I glance to my right to see Emily staring at me, somewhat nonplussed. Well I guess she would be given that my remark had absolutely nothing to do with anything she was talking about.

"Um, nothing important." Oh yeah, go Aaron. That sounds like a wonderful explanation.

"Are you sure?" She sounded concerned, and when I turned to look at her as we pulled up at a light, I could see that concern reflected in her expression. "You don't normally swear like that, Hotch."

"Sorry. It was just something I heard on the radio." Lucky the woman has been working with you for years, or else she'd think you were a complete moron, Aaron. Swearing at something you heard on the radio. Way to make sure your . . . significant other understands you find what she's saying is important. Now, quick, try and remember what she said so that she doesn't realise you were barely paying attention. Come on, Aaron old boy, use those extra IQ points you claim to have. Oh, right, Morgan. "Did Morgan really make that crack about a Holiday Honey?"

And she was off again, talking about how Morgan's antics and relationships with women really creeped her out. I had to agree, as I'd been concerned with the way Morgan dealt with the stresses of the job for some time. I just wished the man would grow up at some point.

It wasn't too much longer before we arrived at Emily's place. While we both had apartments, we'd agreed that hers was much nicer than mine, so we'd decided in the car to come here even though we'd originally intended to go to my place. I had my go bag, so I had no particular reason to stop home. It meant more time with Emily if one of us didn't have to go home first anyway.

As we entered the building, Emily stopped to collect a package from the doorman. I was hoping that it was her Christmas gift, and I wasn't disappointed with the huge grin on her face.

"SiennaWear? Is this from you? I've heard of this company, Hotch. They're pretty new, but they specialize in pajamas." She was practically bouncing as we walked to the elevator.

I couldn't help but grin in response. "I hope you like them."

Emily threw her arms around my neck, practically taking me out with the box she was holding in one hand as she did so. Fortunately, I have decent reflexes, and managed to dodge the offending package. "Oops! Sorry, Aaron."

There was that Aaron again. There was just something in the timbre of her voice as she said it that almost made me go weak at the knees. I raise an eyebrow. "Just be careful. I'd never live down coming into work from a black eye caused by a pair of pajamas!"

She laughed and kissed me. Nothing like that kiss on the couch, or that we'd experienced later that evening. More of an 'you're a silly man, but I like you a whole heck of a lot anyway' kiss. It was delightful. I couldn't help but throw her a dimple in response.

Finally we made it into her apartment, and Emily started tearing the box open as I locked the door. She hadn't even dropped her bag or taken off her coat, she was in such a hurry to open it. Just as she managed to get the lid open, she suddenly turned and looked at me guiltily. "Is it okay to open it now?"

I drew my brows together. "Well, it is a Christmas present, and Christmas isn't until tomorrow . . ." She pouted at me again. Not quite the same pout that she'd given me a week ago when I'd shooed away those jerks from CT, but a pout all the same. How could I say no to that? "But I'll let you open it just the same." Lucky I had something else to give her tomorrow.

"Yay!" She grinned, and her face lit up like a Christmas tree. God she was adorable. She finished opening the box and pulled out a pair of light pink pajamas covered with aqua and pink reindeer. Obviously they were Christmas themed. Her eyes were wide. "These are just fabulous!" She practically ran across the room and enveloped me in a huge hug. "Thank you!"

"Did you see the extra piece of paper that just fell on the floor?" I'd noticed it flying out as Emily catapulted across the room.

"No! What does it say?" She really was like a child with a new toy.

"Perhaps if you pick it up, you'll find out." She flushed, then stuck her tongue out at me, causing me to burst out laughing. I was still laughing when she picked up the paper. "Pajama of the month club?" She looked at me, momentarily at a loss for words. "Aaron, I don't know what to say. This is incredible!"

"I know how you like pajamas, and I wanted to give you something that would be new for you each and every month of the year. Something that I could see you enjoy, and that I could be there with you as you receive them." I have no idea where that came from. All I consciously remembered thinking was that Emily had some sort of pajama fetish, and now I'm saying that I want to make sure I'm there with her every month? Talk about rapid relationship acceleration, Aaron! Still, as I think about it, I do want to be there with her as she gets her new pajamas. There was an infectious element to Emily's excitement, and that was something we never normally saw in our line of work.

And if I could be there to experience that with her, that would be just wonderful.

While I'd been having my little internal monologue, Emily had just been standing there with her mouth open, and I was starting to worry a little. "Emily?" Her mouth closed a little, opened a little, and then closed again. Obviously she was having trouble coming up with something coherent. "Everything okay?"

She looked at me in way I wasn't quite sure how to interpret. "I just . . . don't know what to say. Nobody's ever given me a gift like that before. Not the gift, but the commitment of wanting to be there with me. It's just . . . wow."

"Wow good? Or wow bad?" Okay, I'm a little nervous now. I know she liked the pajamas, but . . .

"Oh definitely wow good." Suddenly she hugged me again, before grabbing my hand and dragging me towards the stairs, a saucy expression on her face. "Would you like to see just how wow good?"

I had a very good idea of what to expect once we reached her room, after all I was still having some pretty amazing dreams about last week – as was Emily apparently. And while I was definitely looking forward to going there later in the evening, I was hungry, and wanted to hug my Emily on the couch for a while as we looked out over the Washington skyline, so I pulled back on her hand.

She looked back at me, confused. "You don't want to come upstairs?"

I chuckled. "Of course I do! But I also want to sit on the couch and hu . . ." no, not masculine enough, "cud . . ." nope, _way_ too feminine, "hold you," for want of a better expression, "for a while." Jeez, so much for that law school education, Aaron! You sound really articulate. I roll my eyes internally.

Emily grinned at my discomfort, but I kept going before she could chime in with the comment from the peanut gallery I could forming see in her eyes. "So why don't you put on your pajamas, I'll order some Chinese, and then we can watch Christmas Eve go by. How does that sound?" Pretty good if you ask me! But I'll certainly not be admitting to anything quite so emasculating at poker night. Fortunately, it seemed to appeal very much to Emily, who leaned in and kissed me, eyes sparkling.

"That sounds wonderful. You really are a very sweet man, Aaron Hotchner."

I pulled her into my arms and sighed, "Yeah, well, don't tell anyone. It'll ruin my reputation." As I felt her chuckle against my chest, I couldn't help but smile as I kissed the top of her head. I didn't say anything, but a sudden realisation struck me.

_Only for you would I do these things, Emily Prentiss. Only for you._

_

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A/N 2: This didn't get up quite as quickly as I'd have liked as the final version became the final final version, and then the final final final version, and then I just made another change Sienna suggested a few minutes ago. But it's all good, and I'm sure it's a _much _better story for having her insight__. Cheers, mate!_

_You may also have noticed that, while there is hopefully still a lot of humour in the story, there is also something a bit more substantive relationship wise. Of course I totally blame Sienna for this (kidding!), but our hope is to continue with a light hearted series. As she said over in her story, the idea is to take it from just funny, to funny/sweet/romantic. Hopefully you'll like what you're getting. (And if you do, could you maybe tell me please? :)_

_One thing I did draw the line on is that this series will not contain smut. Sorry, but that's the way I am. You'll just have to get by on innuendo and your own imagination. :D_

_It's late, and my kids are likely to be up early, but I did want to get this posted tonight so that you all, and Sienna particularly, get a Christmas present from me in your inbox.  
_


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